Page 11 of Savage Justice

The faint sound of a door opening, then closing.

Lucy? I cock my ear, listening for her footsteps on the landing above me. Nothing.

I pour the water into the pot and drop the lid on, then I go to the kitchen door and call up the stairs, “You okay, sweetheart?”

There’s no response, but I don’t fret. I’m going up in a moment anyway. I half turn to reach for the fridge when my world goes dark.

I open my mouth to scream, but no sound emerges. It’s as though my vocal cords have been cut. I can’t breathe, I’m suffocating. I claw at my face, and my fingers encounter rough sacking, thick, smelly hessian, covering my mouth and nose.

Terror surges through my veins. I’m fighting in earnest, fighting for my life and my children’s lives, thrashing and kicking and squirming, jabbing with my elbows, my heels, bucking as hard as I can to be free.

It’s hopeless. My attacker is twice my size and built like a brick wall. He flings me against the fridge, then over the table in the middle of the kitchen. My teapot crashes to the tiled floor, and the splash of near-boiling water splatters my bare feet. He forces me to my knees and drags my hands behind my back. He secures them with something, then shoves me right to the floor and ties my ankles, too. Then he rolls me onto my back and grabs my chin through the hood.

“Where is he?”

The tone is guttural, a vicious snarl from a voice I don’t recognise.

I try to answer, but still my throat is frozen. I croak something incomprehensible.

“Answer me, bitch. Or do I need to find him for myself?”

Who? What…?

He slaps me across the cheek. I see stars, despite the cloying darkness. I’m going to pass out, I know it, from fear and lack of oxygen. I gasp, fighting for air, battling to make some sort of sense of this.

“I want the brat, that’s all. You know you can’t keep him so you might as well give him up.”

My baby. He’s after my precious baby… I manage to make a sound of denial, of refusal, which earns me a fist to my face again.

“Fair enough. I’ll get him myself.”

Suddenly the weight on my chest lifts. There are footsteps, a heavy, clunking tread, moving away. He thumps up the stairs, and I fight to get to my feet. I have to stop him…

I roll over, then struggle to get to my knees but can’t manage any more. I throw back my head and let out the first real sound I’ve made since the attack began, an unearthly howl of utter, helpless anguish. My baby is in danger, and I can’t do a thing to help him, to protect him.

I should have known this day would come, but I ran from it. I ran and I hid, and I thought I could keep us all safe. I was a fool, and now look.

I wince and cry out again at the sounds from upstairs. There’s a crash, then the slamming of a door. Another door. Then the pounding of footsteps as he clatters back down the stairs.

“Where is he, you cunt?”

“Who? I don’t—”

“The baby. What did you do with the fucking baby, bitch?”

“The baby? I…” Bewilderment overwhelms me. Surely, he must have found him. Noah was in his cot, not hidden. And what about Lucy? Is she all right?

“You need to tell me what you did with that fucking kid. Who has him? Some relative? Friends? Where the fuck is he?”

“I don’t know…” And if I did, I wouldn’t be telling you.

He seizes me by the shoulders and hauls me back onto my feet, then shakes me like a rag doll. I swear my brain rattles in my skull, and by the time he lets go of me I drop to the floor again, my knees turned to jelly. I curl into a ball and try to shrink away but can’t escape the boot landing in my ribs. Shooting pain erupts in my right side, I’m really struggling to breathe now, and it all seems like just too much effort. Gratefully, I let myself drift into unconsciousness.

When I come round, I’m upright, on a chair. I have no way of knowing where I am as the hood is still over my head. He’s still here; I can hear him moving about.

I remain silent. As long as he thinks I’m out cold, he might leave me alone. I’m desperately worried about Lucy and Noah, but I take the view that wherever they are, it’s better than being in the clutches of this madman. I can only think that somehow Lucy managed to get Noah and make a run for it.

Clever, brave girl. And maybe she can find help, send someone to save me.

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